


Oaken Spring

by hydrangea



Category: Belgariad/Malloreon Series - David & Leigh Eddings
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 17:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5464379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrangea/pseuds/hydrangea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spring time in Riva causes Garion to make plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oaken Spring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Musyc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/gifts).



Spring had come to the Isle of the Winds and, along with it, the most pleasant season of the year in Garion’s humble opinion. There was, of course, the reoccurring flooding of the northern river that upset the land of the farmers that had settled in the valleys overlooking the rest of the isle, but this particular year the banks appeared to hold and no relief had to be dispatched to herd stubborn goats to higher ground and patch banks while standing in waist deep water straight from the glaciers.

The administrative duties of the King had lessened as well with the farmer folk busying themselves with attending to the year’s plowing and sowing; the city folk doing likewise with preparations for the administrative clerks due to mill out of the Citadel to oversee the year’s taxes. It was a busy season – for all but the King, who was, of course, not expected to do the menial task of tallying taxes and examining fiscal reports from every single businessman presenting his often helpfully adjusted ledgers.

The winter had not been wholly a pleasant affair for Garion. Little Beldaran had caught a severe case of the sniffles in early autumn that had yet to clear up by Erastide, and his daughter – to Ce’Nedra’s great consternation – had proven to be very much attached to her father. Often the only attention that would calm her miserable cries was that of her father’s strong arms carrying her about the Citadel. The people of Riva had not seldom been treated to the sight of their King attending to his duties with his small daughter resting against his shoulder.

With spring and the arrival of a courier from Polgara, however, Beldaran’s illness had finally let up and the lives of the Royal Family had much returned to the state of calm.

 

One morning towards the end of spring, Garion found himself without a particular list of items to take care of that day. The weather was sunny, the air was refreshing and the rains of the previous week had left nature clad in her most vibrant of greens. With Geran attending classes and Beldaran once again happily playing with the other children her age among the Citadel residents, it seemed too much of an opportunity to pass by.

“Ce’Nedra?” he called out as he entered their shared bedchamber and headed towards the open door leading into her personal suite. “Are you there?” He could hear the chimes of her acorn earrings coming from the rooms, but with the latest fashion being painted wall screens it was impossible to see her whereabouts even from within the rooms.

“Garion?” He startled as Ce'Nedra appeared from the balcony behind his back. “I thought you had a meeting with—“ She frowned. “That man with the horrendous beard? Teltrik?”

“Teltak. And I did—it finished early.”

Ce’Nedra was apparently feeling affectionate – or possibly was just influenced by awakening trees – as she stepped into his side and let him wrap his arm around her. “And you came to see me?”

Garion didn’t need to look at her to know she was looking at him through her lashes. He did anyway – Ce’Nedra was _particularly_ beautiful when she wanted something. “I had a thought.”

“Indeed.” Garion didn’t know how she made something so innocuous sound like it did but he hoped that she never imparted the knowledge to Beldaran. If his daughter grew up a fraction as beautiful as Ce’Nedra, enough boys would flock around her as it was. “Do you wish to share the thought?”

One of her hands was stealthily climbing up his side beneath his tunic and Garion had to steel himself not to react. “I asked the servants to take out Chretienne and Xithra. I thought that, perhaps, we could go out for a ride. Maybe spend the day outside.”

Ce’Nedra’s hand disappeared as quickly as it appeared. “Oh! Now that is an _excellent_ idea.” Garion tried not to feel disappointed as she headed towards her wardrobe. “Why don’t you arrange for food while I find something more comfortable to wear?”

All in all, Garion thought, heading towards the kitchens, that had gone well.

Some time later, after one stop to assure Geran that they would return before evening and one slightly unexpected detour to let Chretienne run off his winter jitters, Garion and Ce’Nedra took one of the less used roads out of Riva and into the forest-covered mountain side. They brought no guards – the Orb and Garion himself was more than enough protection – and Garion found his mind occasionally drifting back to a similar ride many years ago.

From the mischievous look on Ce’Nedra’s face, she was similarly occupied.

“Do you think we can find that little pool again?” Garion thought he had a general idea of its location, but he _had_ been rather preoccupied during their previous visit.

“Of course!” Ce’Nedra waved her hand towards the distance. “Just past that copse of beeches and then follow the birches – they remember us, you know.”

Garion hadn’t quite realized that – Ce’Nedra’s connection with trees never ceased to amaze him – but took it gamely enough. “I thought we might want to have our lunch there.” He caught Ce’Nedra’s expression. “Food! The _food_.”

“You’re so stuffy sometimes, you know, Garion. You need to loosen up a bit.”

“I took you out here, didn’t I?”

“After weeks of hinting! I thought the entire spring would pass before you would catch on.”

“You were hinting?”

Ce’Nedra gave him a pitying look. “Whyever did you think I was wearing dryad tunics during that dreadful week of raining? It wasn’t because I was hot, I assure you.”

“And the walks in the garden--?”

“Our tree has begun to bloom. I thought that perhaps _that_ would catch your attention.”

Sometimes, Garion reflected, he despaired of Ce’Nedra and himself ever fully understanding each other. “You couldn’t have suggested an outing yourself?”

Ce’Nedra looked at him. “Who made sure that we had time for ourselves at Erastide even though Beldaran was poorly?”

Point taken.

“Is that the oak we rested beneath?” he asked instead, pointing ahead.

Ce’Nedra beamed at him. “See? You _do_ remember!”

Garion nudged Chretienne over with his knees, tugged Ce’Nedra over and kissed her square on the lips. “I love you, you know”

“I love you too, dear.” Ce’Nedra wrinkled her nose. “But maybe not on top of Chretienne. That is a little bit too brazen.”

“Ce’Nedra!”

She laughed and kicked Xithra into a gallop, steering the mare into the trees. “The last one to reach the oak gets to serve the food!”

“I’ll get you!” Garion shouted after her and put his heels to Chretienne’s sides. He fully intended to let Ce’Nedra win—but he hadn’t counted on Chretienne.

Some good time later – after Chretienne had stopped prancing enough to be unsaddled and Ce’Nedra had stopped laughing helplessly – Garion threw himself on the ground and stared at the sky. The temptation to say _why me_ was almost overwhelming.

“There, there,” Ce’Nedra said, her voice still thick with laughter. “You won, as the masterful horseman you are. You leapt that fallen tree as if Chretienne could fly!”

Garion muttered something about spring mad horses.

Chretienne stopped grazing and gave him a good stare, as if understanding fully well what was being said.

“Well,” Ce’Nedra said primly, “if you are going to be like _that_ I’m going to go to greet the oak. He is _very_ happy to see me again—and promises far more entertainment than my dear husband at this moment.”

Garion sighed. “Ce’Nedra…”

She had already scampered away, however, dryad tunic swishing around her shapely thighs. Garion pulled himself up on his elbows, watching her go, then made a double-take as Ce’Nedra began to climb increasingly higher.

“ _Ce’Nedra_!”

She paused, one knee hooked over a branch. “Yes, Garion?”

He sputtered for a moment, getting to his feet, then, “You! Did you— _All the way_ —someone could have _seen_!”

Ce’Nedra somehow managed to look like she was lounging up there as she answered. “Oh, don’t be such a worry-wart! A little nakedness has never hurt anyone. In fact—“ She made a move as if to pull off something more.

Garion felt himself go red. “I can’t reach you up there,” he said, feeling quite reasonable.

“Oh, I’m sure you can.” He could hear her smile. “I’d be willing to give you some…inspirational aid.”

Garion knew she would.

In a strange echo of their previous visit, Garion gave in to Ce’Nedra’s wishes and headed for the tree. “If I fall,” he warned, “you get to tell Aunt Pol.”

“I’m sure you’ll make it worth it.”

When Garion and Ce’Nedra returned to the Citadel that evening, Geran and Beldaran were waiting for them at the entrance. There were amused looks trailing them through the courtyards and Garion tried his best not to seem bothered for all that his face felt as if it was set on fire.

“Da!” Beldaran was running before Garion had managed to get off Chretienne, her chubby legs carrying her faster than he'd thought possible.

He caught her, ignoring the stifled giggle from her nursery maid. “Have the children behaved?”

“Very much so,” was the reply, but Garion almost missed it when Geran spoke up.

“Father, where are your boots? And…mother—is that . . .?”

 _Yes_ , Garion thought. _We will never live this down._ He exchanged a look with Ce’Nedra over Beldaran’s head, Ce’Nedra’s eyes glittering. Well, it was most definitely worth it.


End file.
